


coffee at midnight

by tsukishimas



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tronnor, YouTubers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:12:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukishimas/pseuds/tsukishimas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"and this is how we fell in love."</p>
</blockquote><br/>(or: the one where you get to see how they fall in love.)
            </blockquote>





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> so first things first, i'm so incredibly proud of connor for coming out and being honest with us, but above all i'm so happy he's accepted himself for who he is. 
> 
> this is dedicated to all my tronnor shippers and friends on twitter - you guys make me smile every day and i'm so thankful for you. i hope you like this. this is for you <33
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](http://littlehappyphil.tumblr.com)

_one look, dark room;_   
_meant just for you_

 

 

Connor adjusts the camera that's sitting on his tripod for the tenth time since he's turned it on. He knows he's stalling, trying to avoid what's coming next. It's his decision, he reminds himself, he chose to do this, and yet he's doing everything possible to put it off.

He breathes in slowly and exhales through pursed lips. He attempts to still his trembling hands in his lap and closes his eyes for just a moment, knowing that what he says now will define who he is to the Internet for the rest of his career.

He opens his eyes.

 

 

;

 

 

Troye sees the video the moment it's uploaded, before Connor tweets it. It shows up right at the top of his subscriptions list, and his breath catches in his throat. The title says it all.

Of course he knows, he's known for a while because Connor is one of his best friends, but he didn't know it would become this — an entire video dedicated to telling the truth to his audience and to the world.

He mouses over slowly and clicks on the video.

Connor looks as if he's trying to appear happy and upbeat, but his usual bright eyes somehow dimmed.

"I kid you not, as soon as I turned on the camera my heart just, like, immediately started beating really fast," he says with an uneasy smile and a nervous, forced laugh.

His voice seems distant and empty, and Troye thinks this isn't what Connor is supposed to look like - he should be happy to share this part of his life, happy that he's accepted himself, happy that he's being honest about who he is. But he just looks sad.

Troye watches in silence as Connor talks, and everything he says reminds him of when he himself was first coming to terms with who he was. He looks so scared of it all, but at the same time he's never seemed so brave.

"So today I want to talk to you guys about that, and be open and honest, and tell you that...I'm gay."

 

 

;

 

 

Connor's never been more terrified in his life than this moment. (Besides the time when he had that first thought in the seventh grade and also when he was talking to himself in the mirror not too long ago.) He has to remind himself that Tyler's his best friend and he, of all people, will understand what he's going through. But somehow, there's that thought in the back of his mind that maybe everything won't be okay, and things will never be the same. And that's the scariest thing to think about.

It's five in the morning and he's sitting across from Tyler on his couch and all Connor has been doing is rambling on about nonsense for hours. He can't seem to stop himself until Tyler rests a hand gently on his shoulder and asks, "What is all this about?"

Connor's eyes sting with tears and he swallows the growing lump in his throat. "I'm gay."

Tyler's face softens and he pulls his friend into a tight embrace. "I'm so proud of you. And I'm so happy that you were able to tell me, because you know you can tell me anything and that I'd never judge you. I'm always here. And I love you."

Connor's tears are starting to soak through his shirt but he doesn't mind.

"I was so scared," Connor chokes out. "I was terrified for years, and I just wanted to be normal like everyone...and I didn't know how long it would take to realize that this is who I am, you know? And now I'm here, telling someone for the first time, and it's just — " He wipes his palm over his cheek in an attempt to dry some of the tears. "Thank you for listening and, you know, being a really good friend. I'm just...really grateful."

Tyler smiles fondly, feeling his own eyes welling with tears. "Of course. I'll always be here for you, you know that."

Connor smiles blearily. "I know. Thank you."

 

 

;

 

 

Nothing really changes after that, other than the fact that Tyler checks up on him every now and then to make sure he's doing okay, and when Connor sees a cute guy he can poke Tyler and they can stare inconspicuously together.

"Troye just texted me saying he's getting in this evening at five," Tyler says across the couch, looking up from his phone.

Connor glances over at the mention. of the arrival of his friend. "Oh, yeah. How long is he going to be here?"

"Probably not long. He's doing some music stuff and that's it, really. He has to get back home soon, apparently."

Connor nods, thinking back to the last time he saw Troye. It's been at least a few months, he thinks, seeing as Troye lives halfway across the world and their schedules and trips rarely connect. He hasn't had the chance to tell him about his recent feelings, and although he could text him or Skype with him, it's something he knows he should do in person.

"I think I'm going to tell him," Connor muses aloud faintly.

Tyler nods with a serious face. "I think that's good. The more comfortable with telling people the better. And of course he'll support you."

 

 

;

 

 

They meet Troye at the airport after he's gathered his luggage, and he's coming out of the large doors when he sees Connor and Tyler on the sidewalk waiting for him.

"Welcome back to paradise," Tyler says as he goes to hug the taller boy.

"This weather is literally like Australia now, it's so weird," Troye says, chuckling. "It's supposed to be winter here but instead there's people at the beach and stuff." He gives Connor a hug and says, "It's really good to see you again."

"You haven't texted in a while," Connor says, not upset but rather stating a fact. "Too busy with EP stuff?"

"Yeah, it's been really busy." Troye wrings his hands together and smiles apologetically. "Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Connor assures, shaking his head slightly. "The music biz is tough, isn't it?"

"You have no idea." Troye heaves a sigh. "I love it, but I'm, like, the laziest person ever, which you know."

"I know," Connor says softly, and smiles endearingly at his friend. "I missed you."

Troye's mouth turns up at the corners. "And I as well."

 

 

;

 

 

"So, this is something I've been working on, I guess," Troye says, sitting down at Tyler's ancient, obsolete piano. He presses down on a few keys and makes a face at the sound it produces. "When's the last time you had this thing tuned?"

"I don't play the piano," Tyler reminds him. "It's probably been, like, a decade. I don't know."

"Well, whatever. It'll do." Troye hits several chords and starts to sing Gasoline for them. He's only got the first verse down, but he's proud of how it's turning out.

When he finishes, trailing off awkwardly with a few random notes, he turns for the reactions.

"You never stop, do you?" Connor says with a grin.

"So, did you like it?" Troye asks slowly.

"Of course," Conor says simultaneously to when Tyler cries, "Duh, it's the best thing I've ever heard."

"It still need a lot of work, and it's a bit shaky now — "

Connor shushes him and shakes his shoulder gently. "Learn to take a compliment, Troye. It sounds great."

He smiles sheepishly. "Thanks. I'm glad you like it."

Connor is giving him this look, making it seem like it's meant just for him, that's soft and loving, as if to say, _I'm proud of you._

Troye feels a strange, but not uncomfortable, swelling feeling in his chest.

 

 

;

 

 

After his outro, Connor sits in front of the camera silently and inhales deep breaths to to calm himself down. He's said everything he wanted to, and now all that's left to do is put it on the Internet.

He stands up and switches the camera off, knowing that a lot of people will never look at him the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave me a comment and kudos if you liked it, and any suggestions are greatly appreciated xx


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk how i feel about this chapter but hey you know if there's anything you want to recommend please do. thanks for reading.

_time moved too fast;  
you play it back_

 

 

It's one in the morning and the TV is on a channel playing one Disney movie after the other (Tangled is on now, and it's their fourth movie this evening). Tyler's fallen asleep on the couch (he was out after the second movie) and Troye and Connor are sitting on the floor looking from their phones to the TV and back again.

"Hey, when are we going to film together?" Connor suddenly asks.

Troye glances over and shrugs. "Whenever you want to. Why?"

"After we took that dinner picture with Tyler, everyone's asking about us collabing."

"Yeah, why haven't we?" Troye muses, surprised to realize that he's never made videos with one of his best friends.

"No idea. We should, though. Soon."

"Yeah, for sure."

There's a pause of silence as Connor struggles to find words. There's a perfect opportunity to say what he wants to —  _needs_ to — and he's not going to let it pass by.

"Can I tell you something?"

Troye frowns slightly, concerned at the sudden serious change in his voice. "Yeah, of course." He reaches over and picks up the remote from the coffee table, lowering the volume and then turning back to face Connor.

He swallows and takes a deep breath. "I've had this feeling, or this thought, for a long time, ever since I was in middle school," Connor starts off slowly, shakily. "And it's taken a really long time to come to terms with that and accept it...which I guess I have now."

When he doesn't say anything for several moments, Troye opens his mouth to reassure him that, _hey, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to_ , but then Connor straightens up and looks directly into his eyes.

"I'm gay."

Troye doesn't know what he was expecting, but he's pretty sure it's not that. He blinks in surprise for a few seconds too long and, finally snapping out of his trance, pulls Connor into a hug. He doesn't say anything, but it's okay because all his pride and support is given to Connor through this one embrace.

"You're not mad, right?" he whispers, barely audible even in the quiet space.

Troye almost chokes laughing at the statement, and punches Connor firmly on the shoulder. "Yeah, I'm _so_ angry right now." He smiles and wraps his arm around Connor's shoulder, squeezing him gently. "You are fucking ridiculous."

 

 

;

 

 

They drop Troye off at the airport the following afternoon. Tyler declares their next meeting to be in San Francisco, his hometown, which they all agree to (because there's no point arguing with him anyway).

Troye hugs Tyler goodbye, and before he does the same to Connor, he smiles in a way that lets him know everything is okay.

"We should set up a Skype schedule," Troye says, wrapping his arms around Connor.

"With times that work for _both_ of us," Connor adds, giving him an accusatory look. "I don't want you waking me up at four A.M. again."

Troye rolls his eyes in mock exasperation with a small grin on his face. "One time — you Skype someone at the wrong time _once_ and this is what you get." He tries to put on his best offended face. "On second thought, I'm not going to be Skyping with you anymore. This is our last interaction until San Francisco." Troye starts to walk away, calling over his shoulder, "See you then!"

Connor bursts out in laughter and jogs to catch up with him. "I'm just kidding! I'll answer all your four A.M. calls, I promise."

Troye fakes an annoyed sigh. "If that's what you want, fine."

Connor's grin tones down to a light smile. "I'm gonna miss you."

Troye smirks and holds his hand out, quipping in a formal voice, "And I as well."

Connor laughs and takes his hand.

 

 

;

 

 

He titles the video simply _Coming Out_ , types in a quick description, and waits in anticipation for it to upload.

 _Ten percent_. He runs his shaking hands through his hair.

 _Thirty percent_. His breathing is jagged and unstable, and he tries the breathing exercises his therapist recommended, but they don't seem to make a difference.

 _Sixty-five percent_. He gets up from his seat at the dining table and paces around the kitchen.

When he returns to his laptop, the percent is at ninety and he feels sick to his stomach. He watches the number crawl higher and higher, and he holds his breath as it reaches a hundred. A message shows up above the video to announce it's gone public, and he collapses back onto the chair.

The hardest part is over; or at least he hopes.

 

 

;

 

 

"So Kian, like, totally destroyed the entire house when he making his video, and he's being such a child about it, as usual, and Ricky got _really_ mad at him — like, you could tell he was so annoyed because stuff like this happens _all the time_ and he's sick of having to clean up after Kian's messes. And, like, I love Kian and everything, but he can be really immature."

Troye nods through his laptop screen. "Yeah, he is kind of a bit younger than you and Ricky, so I think he considers himself an adult and everything but isn't exactly mature enough to actually be one."

Connor sighs as he swivels his desk chair from side to side. "Yeah. It's just upsetting when any of the boys are mad at each other, or when we're all mad at each other...I don't know. I love them all, but sometimes I feel like I'd just be better off on my own, you know?"

"Then why don't you get your own place?"

Connor shakes his head. "I've thought about it, but...I don't want to hurt any of them or offend them. Moving out on my own would give the wrong message, I think."

"Connor, stop being a nice person for, like, two seconds," Troye says. "Don't get hung up on what they'll think. You should start trying to make yourself happy before you make others happy."

Connor rubs his hands over his face and groans. "It's hard."

There's a soft knock on his door, and when he swivels his chair around, he sees Ricky in the doorway of his room. He looks tired and worn out, but still manages a small smile.

"Hey, I just came to tell you that I ordered pizza a while ago and it should be here in a few minutes."

Connor nods. "Thanks. How's it going with Kian?"

Ricky exhales deeply, clearly exasperated with their friend's behavior. "I don't know why he can't just do his part. Like, if he makes a mess, then he should fix it. I'm sick of doing everything for him. He's like a dog, I swear."

Connor chuckles softly. "Yeah, I know. But I guess that's how he is. Maybe if you have a serious talk with him, he'll realize that he's being a little unfair to you."

"Like I could ever get him to sit down and have 'serious talk'," Ricky says. "But I'll think about it." He looks as if he's about to go, but then he cranes his neck to the side and asks, "Who're you talking to?"

"Troye. Weekly Skype call."

Ricky nods and steps into the room so he's in range of the laptop camera. "Hey, Troye." He waves to on-screen Troye.

"Hi, Ricky. Doing good?"

"Could be better, honestly, but all things considered, I'm fine."

"Did Connor tell you I'm coming to L.A. in a few months?"

"Really? Dude, you should stay with us here - you'll save money from not having to book a hotel."

Troye's eyes flit to Connor momentarily. "That's really nice of you. I'll think about it."

"Yeah, of course." The doorbell goes off, caiding Wishbone to start barking loudly, and Ricky looks over his shoulder. "That's the pizza. I gotta go get the door, but it was great talking to you."

"You too. Enjoy the pizza!"

Ricky waves goodbye and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Connor turns back to his computer screen.

"You're really going to stay here when you come down?"

Troye shrugs nonchalantly. "Maybe. If you want me to."

"Yes," Connor says, failing to sound calm and not too eager. "That would be really cool."

"Well then, I guess I'll be staying with you." There's a faint sound of someone's voice from Troye's end, and he turns his head. "Yeah, I know, mom. I'll be right there!" He looks back to Connor. "Sorry, I have to go, but I'll text you later this afternoon — well, night for you, I guess."

"Okay," Connor says, feeling a wave of disappointment at the announcement of Troye's leave. 

"I'll miss you, _Connie_ ," Troye sings, his voice light and teasing, and ends the call. The screen goes blank and Connor sits back in his chair with a wide smile on his face.

 

 

;

 

 

"This bitch, I swear," Tyler simpers, checking the time on his phone for the hundred time. They've been waiting about twenty minutes for Troye and Steele to show up at the hotel so they can go to dinner. It'll be the first time that either of them have seen Troye in a while, which makes sense as to why Tyler's so inpatient. But more so than that, he's probably just hungry.

"He says he's close," Connor says, reading off the text he's just received. "'I can see the hotel from here. Why is it so damn cold in this city?' And he put four question marks." He laughs and begins to type a message back.

"Stop flirting and tell him to get his ass down here," Tyler says, snickering.

"I'm not — " Connor sputters in embarrassment, his face flushing red.

Tyler bursts out laughing. "I'm just kidding, oh my God."

"I'm here!" comes Troye's voice. He's jogging down the sidewalk towards them dressed in a thick jacket and long pants. His older brother, Steele, is behind him.

"Sorry it took so long," Troye huffs out, trying to catch his breath. "I had no idea where I was going; plus it's dark and I can't see anything." He puts a a hand over his heart. "Sorry, you know I'm the most un-athletic person in the world."

"We weren't waiting that long," Connor assures him, and Troye smiles.

"Hi, by the way," he says. "It's been a long time, huh?"

Connor shoots him a goofy grin. "Not long enough."

 

 

;

 

 

"Flannel or plain?" Connor asks, holding up the two shirts, one a dark green flannel and the other a plain blue button-up, for his friends to see.

Instead of answering, Tyler laughs and rolls his eyes. "You are _such_ a gay boy."

"Yes, I am, so fucking deal with it." Connor tries to keep his face straight but ends up laughing, too.

"I think flannel," Troye speaks up, and smiles. "I like the way it looks on you."

Connor blushes and mumbles out a thanks before going back through the door that connects their rooms.

"Flirt alert," Tyler chirps, once Connor is out of earshot.

"What are you talking about?" Troye says, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

"'I like the way it looks on you'?" Tyler raises his fingers in air quotes around the statement. "You might as well have held up a sign that says 'I think you're cute'."

"What do you mean?" Troye folds his arms defensively. "It was just a compliment. And, yeah, I think Connor's cute - so do you."

"That's besides the point. You totally like him."

Troye gestures with his hands as if to say _are you serious right now?_ "No, I do not. Like, as a friend, yeah."

"You're not even trying to deny it." Tyler clicks his tongue. "And he probably likes you, too."

There's a sound of footsteps coming from the other room and Troye hisses, "Will you please shut up?" at the same time that Connor steps back into the room, dressed in the green flannel over a black t-shirt.

"What do you think?" he asks timidly.

"Frantastic as _fuck_ ," Tyler says, giggling excessively.

"Gee, thanks." Connor rolls his eyes with a ghost of a smile on his face. "I'm not asking you for your opinion on anything anymore. From now on, it's just Troye. I'm only talking to Troye. What do _you_ think, _Troye_?" He talks loudly to purposely annoy Tyler, but it only makes him laugh harder.

"It's nice," Troye replies honestly.

Connor half smiles at him in thanks before leaning over and shoving a still laughing Tyler off the edge of the bed.

 

 

;

 

 

Troye wipes several stray tears away from his cheeks with the palm of his hand while the music at the end of Connor's video plays. He reaches for his phone on his bedside table and types out a short text.

To: Connor  
 _i'm proud of you. i love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, i would love to know what you think. the next chapter isn't written yet so if you have any input or ideas for tronnor scenes in the next or upcoming chapters then i'd love to know!


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i forgot to mention earlier that the time skips in this story are hella crazy but i think you'll be able to understand what precedes what and everything. it may seem a bit weird that you're reading about troye and connor's meeting and the next they're kissing on the cheek, but it's just the style that i'm going for (a timeless kind of feel). anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter :) xx

_buttons on a coat;_   
_lighthearted joke_

 

 

"Can you walk  _any_  faster?" Tyler whines, pulling on Troye's hand arm with quite a strong grip for such a small person. In between meet-ups at Vidcon, Tyler had told him there was a certain person that he should meet (and that was all he'd said, leaving that statement to hang ambiguously in Troye's mind.)

"I can follow without you guiding me like a dog," Troye points out, laughing slightly as he attempts to break is arm free.

"Just shush," Tyler snaps back as they approach a boy sitting alone at a table. As they come closer, Troye squints and thinks he recognizes him —  _Connor something_ , his memory supplies.

The boy lifts his head as they walk up to him. Tyler sits down and pulls Troye down into a chair in between to him and the boy.

"Hi, Connor," Tyler chirps happily, adjusting the glasses that sit on the bridge of his nose. "It's  _so_  good to see you again."

Connor smiles politely at both of them. "You too." He looks at Troye and rushes out, "By the way, I know who you are, and I love your videos." He begins to laugh nervously. "I'm sorry if that's weird — "

"No, not at all - um, that's really flattering," Troye assures him, smiling.

"I'm Connor Franta," he says, holding his hand out to be shaken.

"Troye Sivan," Troye replies, and then adds awkwardly, "But I guess you knew that."

"Troye's a good friend of mine, and I met Connor a while ago," Tyler pipes up. "I thought you two would get along."

Troye smiles at both boys. "I think we all will."

(Later, Troye will ask Connor to wink for his video outro and Connor will laugh giddily before doing so, and Troye will grin and blush for some reason he doesn't quite know.)

 

 

;

 

 

"Here we go."

Troye claps several times to make sure the audio is in sync with the camera. "I think we're all set."

From beside him on the hotel room bed, Connor nods and looks at their image on the playback screen. "Okay. My intro first, or yours?"

"Mine," Troye replies. "My intro is cooler than yours, anyway, so it should be first."

"You say the exact same thing I do!" Connor cries.

"Shush, I'm trying to film," he says, and laughs when Connor jabs his ribs with his elbow. "Hey, what's up you guys! My name is Troye Sivan, and today I'm here with — " He gestures grandly at Connor.

"Connor Franta," he says, and poses, which makes Troye laugh.

They film both videos, which takes several hours (Troye will later deny any embarrassment he had while responding to a round of Kiss Marry Kill that he would marry Connor) and finish the filming with Troye's outro.

("Is this your first time doing the wink?"

"I did it in your Vidcon vlog! I know what I'm doing.")

Later, when Troye uploads the footage onto his laptop to edit, he finds out that the microphone must've been off, because he's watching hours worth of video without any audio. He groans in annoyance and considers trashing the footage, but thinks that it would be a waste of their effort.

(He most definitely does not keep the footage and watch it over and over again just to watch Connor's face when he laughs and smiles.)

 

 

;

 

 

"Could you  _please_  get that out of my face?" Troye scrunches up his nose as Tyler moves the camera closer.

"This is history right here," the older man replies with a completely serious look. "You'll thank me in the future when you two get married and have children and they ask, 'Dad, what was it like when you first asked Papa out on a date?' and you'll be able to show them this footage."

"You are the weirdest person I know, I swear," Troye says, shaking his head. "Fine, but you can't let anyone see this, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." Tyler waves his hand, as if to wave off his friend's paranoid conditions. "I know you love your privacy. Now, go on."

Troye rolls his eyes at him before knocking firmly on the front door. Several moments later, it swings open to reveal Connor standing in the doorway with a shocked look on his face.

"Troye," he says, taken aback. "What are you doing? And why is Tyler filming?" He eyes the camera suspiciously.

"Oh, you can ignore him," Troye says dismissively, to which Tyler begins to protest, but Troye steps on his foot to silence him.

Connor look back and forth between his two friends, obviously confused. "What's going on?"

Troye smiles nervously and sticks his hands in his pockets. "I wanted to ask if you'd go out with me."

Connor blinks in surprise for several moments. "Really? I mean...why? I mean —  _what_?"

"Ever since you came out to me, I've felt so much closer to you," Troye begins to explain. "And I remember when we first met that I felt something just by being near you, but I figured it wouldn't work out because you liked girls. We've grown so much closer over the past months, and I really like you — like,  _really_  like you."

Connor's face is slowly turning redder as Troye goes on. "I, uh, like you, too."

"So, is that a yes?" Troye asks, anticipation building in his stomach.

"It is," Connor says, grinning, and Troye beams.

"Oh, before I forget," he says, turning to Tyler, who hands him a single red rose. Troye holds it out to Connor.

"I know it's not much, since I didn't have enough money to buy a whole bouquet," he explains, slightly embarrassed.

"It's pretty," Connor says, and accepts the flower with a shy smile. "Thank you."

Troye opens his mouth to speak at the same time a voice, probably Ricky's, from inside the house shouts, "Connor, who's at the door?"

Connor looks over his shoulder. "Just Tyler and Troye. They stopped by to say hi before Troye has to get to the studio." He turns back to Troye. "Thanks so much for this and, uh, asking me out, I guess. I'll text you later, okay?"

"Sure, no problem." He tries not to look disappointed that Connor didn't tell the truth about why they were here.

"So, I'll see you when I see you," Connor says quietly, and before he has time to react, Connor presses his lips to Troye's cheek quickly and shuts the door.

After standing at the doorstep in shock for a minute, Troye swivels around to look at Tyler, who's still holding up the camera. He looks surprised as well, but it quickly morphs into an amused smirk.

"Well, mission successful, I'd say."

 

 

;

 

 

Troye shoves his hands into the deep pockets of his overcoat as the biting wind sweeps his hair away from his face. New York is bitter cold at this time of year, already receiving a few inches of snow within the two days he's arrived.  _Should've brought gloves_ , he thinks to himself.

The text Connor sent him a few minutes ago is still emblazoned in his memory.

From: Connor  
 _room 105 on the sixth floor at the hilton. i want to see you_.

It's only been a few weeks since Troye's seen him when he stayed at Connor's while in Los Angeles, and yet every day apart seems like years.  _I guess this is what it's like to be in love._

He takes the elevator up to the sixth floor and roams down the halls looking for Connor's room.

 _102_. He wonders what Connor has been doing since he arrived this morning.  _103_. He wonders if Connor's missed him.  _104_. He can't help the smile that spreads over his face at the thought of seeing him again.

He comes to a stop in front of a door with gold letters spelling out  _105 - Connor's right behind that door,_ he thinks. He inhales slowly, calmly, before knocking lightly. When the door swings open, the boy launches himself into Troye's arms before he can greet him. Connor's hands are warm as they grip his shirt, and his breath tingles the back of his neck.

"I missed you."

Troye chuckles softly. "We saw each other, like, three weeks ago."

"Three weeks is too long," Connor replies hastily, and kisses him hard.

Troye turns his head and giggles, his face burning. "Hey, let's at least have some class and go inside."

Connor smirks, pulls on his arm, and shuts the door, pinning Troye against it with an arm across his chest.

"We have a lot to catch up on," Connor rasps, and licks his lips before pushing up on his toes to meet Troye's lips again.

Troye follows along with his every move, shivers at every touch. He lets Connor undo the buttons on his coat (after he discovers his hands are trembling) and lifts his arms as his shirt is tugged over his head and tossed to the side with his coat. Connor's hands spread warmth like fire as they dance around his chest.

"You're so cold," he whispers.

"It was freezing outside," Troye replies, flustered and embarrassed.

Connor leans over him and presses their chests together to whisper in his ear. "I'll keep you warm."

He does. Connor holds him close as he kisses him passionately, as he thrusts into him gently, and when Troye shivers and whimpers and comes, Connor hold him tighter and presses his lips to his collarbones.

Troye opens his eyes and stares lovingly down at the boy beneath him as he releases. Connor meets his eyes, cloudy and lustful, and meets his lips. Troye tightens his arms around his neck as a thought crosses his mind.

_So this is love._

 

 

;

 

 

Troye glances down at his phone again. This is probably the — what, fiftieth time since this morning? He doesn't remember. He's stopped keeping track. He still hasn't gotten a text back, and that was hours ago. He knows Connor is most likely too nervous to talk to anyone, but Troye was hoping he'd make an exception for him.

After another hour of waiting anxiously by his phone, his text tone goes off and he pounces.

From: Connor  
 _thank you. i love you too_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked this please leave a comment bc they make my day and if you want let me know what kind of fluff scenes you want to see (their date, troye's trip to l.a., etc.) thank you! xx


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is definitely my favorite chapter so far for reasons. you'll know when you read it.

_no proof, not much;  
but you saw enough_

 

 

Troye turns the vlogging camera onto Connor and smiles from behind it as he says, "Where're we going, Connor?"

 

"We are going to your event," he replies cheerfully, after a sip of water from the cup in his hand.

 

"My event?" Troye questions.

 

Connor spreads out his arms and grins. "It's your whole event!"

 

They arrive behind the main stage, the chattering and cheers already audible from the other side. Connor peaks over the stairs leading to the stage and his eyes widen at the sight of the sea of people waiting beyond.

 

He can feel Troye shaking and shifting beside him with nerves. He licks his lips for the upteenth time and wrings his hands together tightly. When his knuckles begin to turn white, Connor reaches over, carefully unthreads his hands, and takes one of them in his own, twining their fingers together and squeezing gently.

 

"You're going to do great," he whispers. "Don't worry, and just have fun, okay?"

 

"There's so many people out there." Troye's whole body feels numb — and it isn't that he isn't excited to share his music with all his viewers, because he is, but the crowd out there looks nothing like his camera in his bedroom. He's used to knowing there's thousands of people watching him through their screens, but not actually seeing those people in person.

 

"They all love you," Connor replies softly. "And so do I."

 

Troye gives a small smile, his cheeks reddening. "Thanks. I love you, too."

 

A stagehand with a headset a comes up to them and says, "Troye Sivan to the stage in thirty seconds."

 

Troye sends Connor one final look before he lets go of his hand and starts towards the stairs. He takes a deep breath before stepping out into the stage, blinded by the bright lights and deafened by the screams.

 

;

 

As soon as Troye is offstage, Connor pulls him into a tight hug.

 

"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "You never cease to amaze me."

 

"You are so sappy." Troye giggles as he hugs back, feeling safe and warm in the embrace of the other boy. "Thank you."

 

"So, since Touch is for me, and all," Connor muses, "does that mean that I can request you sing it to me whenever I want?"

 

"In your dreams." Troye bumps his shoulder against the other boy's. "But if you're nice, I may play you a nice piano rendition someday. A Troye Sivan Exclusive."

 

"Troye Sivan is exclusive to me." Connor presses a chaste kiss the corner of his mouth, causing him to blush.

 

"Connor, there're people around," Troye whispers, squirming in his grip.

 

"Can we go to your room?" Connor blinks innocently at him through long lashes.

 

"Later, I promise," Troye says. "I have to be at this meeting in, like, an hour. Come by tonight at around nine?"

 

Connor smiles cutely, revealing his dimples. "I will."

  

;

 

Troye presses quickly on the button beside the door and listens while the bell chimes. Moments later, he hears barking and quick footsteps from inside, and the door swings open to reveal Ricky, Kian, and Jc all clambering to greet him first.

 

"Troye!" Kian shouts loudly, which makes him jerk back in surprise.

 

Jc shoves Kian aside as he says, "We've been waiting for you. It's great to see you again!"

 

"You, too." Troye smiles fondly at the energetic bunch, not clearly remembering the last time he was with them. He notices immediately that Connor isn't among them and wonders briefly if he's here at all. (Of course he is, because Troye texted him when he landed and Connor said he's looking forward to see him.)

 

Ricky pushes in front of both of his friends and puts a hand on Troye's back to guide him inside. Wishbone is at his feet, barking and jumping at his legs.

 

"We're really excited that you're staying with us for a few days," Ricky gushes, and a strange, cheeky smile spreads across his face. "Especially Connor—he hasn't shut up about you for days."

Despite his efforts, Troye feels his face turning red. "Really?" he squeaks, flattered and embarrassed at the news. _Connor was thinking about him. Connor couldn't wait to see him._ "Um, where is he?"

 

"He's upstairs arranging the guest room for you," Jc chimes in.

 

"It's been a while since anyone's used it, so it's full of junk and stuff," Ricky explains.

 

Troye swallow nervously and shrugs. "If it's too much trouble to clean, I could just stay in someone else's room, on an air mattress or something."

 

While the three boys continue to discuss the sleeping arrangements, Troye cranes his neck upwards at the sound of pounding footsteps from above. Connor appears at the top of the staircase and hastily makes his way down.

 

"Sorry I didn't come down," he breathes out. "That room is a mess." He lifts his head to meet Troye's eyes and smiles. "Hi."

 

Troye chuckles silently. "Hey."

 

"Troye suggested he stay in one of our rooms so you don't have to clean the entire guest room," Kian informs him.

 

"I'd offer, but my room doesn't have much space for an air mattress," Jc says.

 

"Connor's is the biggest," Ricky says, and looks towards the boy in question. "Is it cool if Troye stays in your room?"

 

"My room?" Connor wheezes, a good octave above his normal voice, and then clears his throat loudly. "Uh, sure. Yeah, my room's pretty big. There's tons of room in there."

 

Troye smiles at him. "Thanks. I'll be a good roommate."

 

"Yeah, 'course," Connor continues to ramble. "I'll go get the air mattress from the guest room closet and set it up."

 

When he's out of sight, Ricky takes Troye's suitcase from him and says, "I'll take this up to Connor's room for you. Jc and Kian can show you where everything is."

 

Troye nods and proceeds to follow the two boys around as they point out the bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room.

 

"And the pool's right out there," Jc is saying, when Troye's sees Connor approaching.

 

"Air mattress is all set up," he says. "And your luggage is up there, too."

 

"Thanks," Troye says, and grins. "So far, you guys are one of the best hosts I've ever stayed with. Now all you have to do is order pizza for dinner and I'm sold."

 

;

  

Connor's almost fallen completely asleep when Troye leans over the bed and asks if he can sleep with him. (Something about air mattresses being uncomfortable—he doesn't catch everything in his half awake, half asleep haze.)

 

He feels the bed dip as Troye climbs in next to him and pulls the sheets over himself. In his delirious state, Connor remembers reaching for the warm body beside him and pulling the person closer for heat, and the hesitant hands that wrap themselves around his and squeeze tightly, like they don't want to let him go.

 

When he finally drifts out of consciousness, the last thing he feels is soft lips pressed to his cheek.

 

;

  

Connor stirs awake and opens his eyes, blinking away the sleep. He stares up at the white ceiling of his room and stays still for several moments, listening to the sound of his breathing. As his chest rises and falls, he feels a slight weight on his body. When he looks down to see what it is, he nearly falls of the edge of the bed in surprise. Troye is cuddled against his side in the crook where his shoulder meets. His head rests against Connor's chest and an arm is around his middle. Connor can feel Troye's knee pressing into his thigh and smells the soft fruitiness of his hair and the warmth of his cheek against his own bare chest. He can hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears, picking up pace (which Troye can probably hear, he realizes) and his stomach feels like it's doing somersaults, around and around. It's a strange feeling he can't describe, not uncomfortable but not comfortable. 

 

But the most terrifying thing is that he really doesn't mind Troye being close like this at all.

 

Troye's eyes flutter open and he yawns. He lifts his head slightly and looks around for several seconds, and his body goes rigid. When he lifts his chin up to meet Connor's gaze, he quickly sits up and jerks away.

 

"I'm so sorry," he rushes out. "I didn't mean to—I knew I was pretty tired, but I didn't realize—"

 

"It's totally fine," Connor tries to reassure him, except it's not really fine because he woke up to find one of his best friends holding him more gentle than anyone had ever done before and it made him feel... _good_.

 

"I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," Troye says, and he looks genuinely upset about what's happened, and Connor doesn't know why. _I'm not angry_ , he wants to say. _I'm far from angry. I liked how it felt to have you so close to me._

 

"It's okay; I'm not mad," Connor tells him softly.

 

"Okay. I'm sorry." His shoulders loosen as he sighs quietly, but his face is still concerned and embarrassed, his eyes cast downwards and teeth biting deep into his lip.  _Please don't be sorry. Please don't think you made a mistake and think about how much you regret it because I don't regret anything at all._

 

After watching movies late into the night and eating through several boxes of pizza, the boys say goodnight and head off to their separate rooms. As Connor grabs his laptop off his bedside table and settles on his bed, he briefly wonders if Troye will join him, but then reminds himself that him being there last night was pretty much a mistake, or a misunderstanding, or _something_. He glances over at the floor where Troye's sitting on he air mattress with his laptop balanced on his knee. 

 

"Um, do you maybe want to hang up here?" Connor asks carefully. It's only because he looks uncomfortable, and a bed is a lot better to relax on, and it's not like Troye will want to stay with him through the whole night, so it's really just a friendly gesture for the comfort of his friend. 

 

Troye's head lifts up and his eyes widen slightly. "Really? That would be cool. Thanks." He picks up his laptop, walks around to the other side of Connor's bed, and slides in beside him. He gives Connor a sideways smile and goes back to his Tumblr dashboard. Connor looks back at his own screen and watches his Twitter mentions fill with spam, questions, and general declarations of love. He tries half-heartedly to ignore the fact that there's a person lying beside that's making him feel...well, he's not so sure.

 

Connor doesn't know exactly what he's feeling, but he knows he can't ignore it. He knows having Troye near him made him feel something happy and content, like he's suddenly found a part of him he didn't know was missing. He's scared, and he's always been when it came to things like crushes and love. But when Troye was curled up against him, he didn't feel scared; he felt all fuzzy inside. He feels the same way thinking about what it would be like if he held Troye like that again.

 

(And, really, that should have been the first sign that told him he was in love.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading, and for the suggestions on the previous chapter. if you have any more feel free to comment. i'll see you guys soon :)


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW I KNOW I SUCK. i haven't updated in months and i feel really bad about it but writer's block was/is a total bitch. so please, accept this offering with my humblest, sincerest apologies.
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](http://littlehappyphil.tumblr.com) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/avocadotronnor)

_small talk, he drives_  
_coffee at midnight_

 

 

A comfortable silence hangs in the air, albeit for the sounds of rhythmic keyboard clicks coming from opposite ends of the couch. Connor checks the time at the corner of his laptop just in time to see the numbers change: 11:52 PM.

 

He and Troye are the only ones awake, or so he presumes, as the other boys have retired to their respective rooms for the night. His eyes shift over the top of his laptop screen to the boy across from him, who is typing away intently with slightly furrowed eyebrows as he chews on his bottom lip. Overcome with a sudden urge for spontaneity, caffeine, and to be with this boy on the other side of the couch, Connor shuts his laptop and places it on the coffee table.

 

"This might sound kind of crazy," he starts to say, and giggles halfway through his next sentence, "but do you want to go get coffee with me?"

 

Troye meets his eye over his computer. "You mean go out? Right now?"

 

Connor nods. "Yeah."

 

"You're shitting me." His eyes flicker back to his laptop for a moment, presumably to check the time. "It's almost midnight. There's no way there'll be a place open."

 

Connor shakes his head with a small smile dancing across his lips. "There's a twenty-four hour diner around that I've seen. They'll be open and have coffee."

 

Troye gives him a dubious, yet amused, look. "You can make your own here."

 

"I'm in the mood," he retaliates, standing up confidently. "Come on; it'll be fun." He flashes a grin. Troye groans.

 

Troye drives, and the car ride is spent listening to the strange music the radio plays at midnight and very little conversation. Connor wonders briefly why it feels so natural to be around Troye, even when words aren't exchanged. For some reason, it feels like it's beyond the fact that they're close friends. There's a connection that they share that he just can't explain.

 

The diner is close to empty when they step inside, the only other people being an elderly man sitting at at the counter on a stool reading a book and a barista wiping down tables. She glances up and nods in acknowledgement to them.

 

They sit across from each other in a booth by the counter; there's large window where cars can be seen passing by quickly, their headlights and taillights blurring with the speed.

 

The barista, who looks in her mid-thirties and has her dark hair up in a bun, approaches them with a pad of paper and pen in her hands. "Evening, boys. What can I get you?"

 

"A decaf coffee for me, please," Connor says, and she takes the order down.

 

"Just a glass of water is fine, thanks," Troye says with a small, polite smile.

 

After scribbling something quickly on the pad, she pockets both items into her apron. "So, what brings you here so late?"

 

Troye shoots Connor a pointed glare as he replies, "That one wanted coffee pretty badly, and I was dragged along against my own will." He sticks out his tongue jokingly.

 

"It's a great young adult experience," Connor says back through a spell of laughter. "Everyone has to have coffee at midnight at least once in their lifetime."

 

The woman grins and chuckles softly. "I remember being a teenager and going out for tea late at night with my girlfriend. It certainly is something you don't forget." She pauses for half a second to glance between the two of them and then asks, casual as can be, "Are you boys here on a date?"

 

Connor visibly tenses while Troye begins to chuckle, amused.

 

"No, we're just friends," he tells her.

 

"I see." The look on her face is difficult to read, but Connor thinks she looks unconvinced and almost amused, as if she knows something they don't. _What could she know?_

 

"Anyhow, I'll have your drinks out in just a bit," she says, gives both of them a friendly smile, and leaves.

 

When she's out of hearing distance, Troye smiles sheepishly at Connor. "Well, that was an interesting question she asked."

 

Connor fiddles with his hands that rest on the tabletop. "Yeah. Strange."

 

Neither of them bring up the previous conversation again, and while Connor tries his very best to keep his thoughts away from that particular thing, it proves impossible. It feels like he's just become aware of his own breathing or blinking, and now he can't help but breathe and blink again and again. Strange thoughts begin to enter his mind as he replays the events of just a few days prior, when he woke up to Troye cuddling him in bed, and how, for the next few nights, he's willingly let Troye sleep next to him. Realistically, he knows what's going to happen; he'll start acting weird because of all the thinking and Troye will wonder what he's been thinking about. ( _What is he thinking about?_ Even he doesn't know.)

 

The waitress returns with a white porcelain cup on a saucer and a glass of water. After she's left, Connor begins to stir the cream and sugar into his coffee while Troye sips from his water in silence.

 

When he finishes mixing his drink together and glances up, Troye is looking at him with a curious expression. "So, since I went out with you this late to do something crazy, will you do something crazy with me?"

 

Connor can't help but chuckle as he holds his coffee up to his mouth. "Sure, but I'm a little bit scared about what you're going to say."

 

Troye shakes his head and smiles, tight-lipped. "It's not, like, bad or anything. Just—okay. I think we should go on a vacation. Just the two of us."

 

Connor promptly chokes on his drink, and after regaining some composure and breath, he stares incredulously at the other boy. "What? You're serious?"

 

Troye grins. "Absolutely."

 

Connor sits back in his seat and soaks in the proposition of an opportunity that's been handed to him. "So, where're you thinking? Hawaii? New York? Florida?"

 

Troye actually has the resolve to shrug. "I was thinking Paris."

 

"Paris?" Connor practically screeches, choking yet again in the process. "What the hell?"

 

"Don't you think it'll be fun?" Troye is smiling a bit too wide at him, as if he knows there's no way Connor can deny this trip.

 

"Well, yeah, but—" He falters on his words. Of course a vacation to Paris would probably be the best thing ever, but it's also such an abnormal proposition that he isn't all too sure what he's supposed to think.

 

Troye is staring hopefully at him. "Come on—it'll be literally the best time of your life, I guarantee."

 

He eyes the other boy carefully, mulling things over. "For how long?"

 

"Not too long," Troye replies. "Maybe a week or so."

 

A week in Paris. It sounds like something out of a game show grand prize, and they both know he would be lying if he said he wasn't at all interested.

 

"Okay," Connor says. "Paris it is."

 

Troye's entire face lights up with joy. "Oh my God. You're really cool with it?"

 

Connor nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "It sounds fun. And being young is about doing insane things, right?"

 

Troye is grinning, looking happier than Connor has ever seen him. "Right."

 

;

 

Shirts. Jeans. Laptop. Camera. It all goes into the large black suitcase, along with a myriad of other necessities for the trip. Connor's almost completely certain he's packed everything that he needs to and is checking the list over again for the fourth time, when there comes a light knock on his door.

 

"Yeah?" he says, turning to look over his shoulder.

 

"Hey, Connor," Ricky says as he steps into the room. He falters slightly when he sees the suitcase, a confused frown taking over his face, but he quickly masks it. "What're you doing? Are you going somewhere, or...?" The sentence trails off, unfinished.

 

Connor smiles casually, knowing fully that he'd have to explain himself sooner or later. "I'm going on a trip to Paris. I guess I never mentioned it, huh?"

 

Ricky only seems half as surprised as expected. "You're going alone?"

 

Connor fiddles with the hem of his shirt. "No, I'm actually going with Troye."

 

And Ricky looks so knowing, the way he nods his head, and it throws Connor off that he doesn't know what he's thinking.

 

"You'll bring me back a souvenir, right?" he says jokingly. "Like, one of those Eiffel Tower keychains?"

 

Connor laughs good-naturedly. "Sure."

 

"And do either of you know any French?" Ricky asks.

 

"None at all," Connor admits sheepishly, "but we'll be okay."

 

(Of course they'll be okay—they're Connor and Troye.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh i'm cringing at my own cheesiness. 
> 
> and again, if you have any feedback/suggestions for future chapters, go ahead and leave a comment and i'll be super happy!


End file.
